Healer: Watchdogs MC, #2

By Kate Stone

Our love must remain a secret.

 

Eve and I have been in love for as long as I can remember. The problem is that we can never tell anyone. The Watchdogs would never allow me to date the Sheriff's daughter, and the Sheriff might just kill me if he ever found out.

 

As long as we keep our secret, we can find a little time to be together, and that will be enough.

 

When Eve broke up with me for no reason, I couldn't stand it. It was time to come clean with her father, and the club. 

I don't know who will hate us more, but as long as we have each other we'll make it.

 

Healer is the second book in Kate Stone's Watchdogs MC Romance series. This series can be read in any order.

 

Healer is a SHORT, standalone romance with a happy ending, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Stone
• Release date: Nov 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201738594

Book preview

Healer

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by

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Kate Stone

Copyright 2020, Kate Stone

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All rights reserved.

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No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted, or distributed in any printed or electronic form by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of Kate Stone, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within reviews and other non-commercial uses allowed by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One – Eve

Chapter Two – Jericho

Chapter Three – Eve

Chapter Four – Jericho

Chapter Five – Eve

Chapter Six – Jericho

Chapter Seven – Eve

Chapter Eight – Jericho

Chapter Nine – Eve

Chapter Ten – Jericho

Other Books by Kate Stone

About the Author

Chapter One – Eve

It was always something, wasn’t it? I watched as smoke poured through the cracks of the hood of my car, escaping into the atmosphere along with any hope I had to get home before my dad did. In a small town like Newshire, I knew people whispered behind my back, wondering why a twenty-two-year-old still lived at home with daddy. It wasn’t like I had to, but I chose to. My dad and I knew I was an adult and could come and go as I pleased, but I still did my best to be respectful. Sometimes when I was out with friends and had to race the clock to get home before my dad, I would get a rush of that teenage adrenaline again.

As I cut off the engine and released the hood latch, I weighed my options. I had a couple friends I could call, but it was a Friday evening so getting ahold of any of them would be close to impossible. I could have called my dad, but it had been on going fight between the two of us about my lack of car maintenance. I was just glad I was on a back road where a deputy was less likely to spot me and radio my dad. Getting out of the car, I moved to the front and lifted the hood, immediately jumping back as I hacked up the horrid fumes from my lungs. Once I caught my breath and the smoke and fumes subsided, I stood over the engine compartment with my hands on my hips.

I wasn’t a total ditz about cars. My dad taught me how to change the oil when I was sixteen—that didn’t mean I did it myself, though. I knew where the belts were and to peek down to see if they were still intact. Outside of that, I was at a loss. As I stared down at the jumble of mechanics, I had no idea what I was going to do, and it was only an hour or so until dark.

Then, in the distance, over the hills was a sound the entire town of Newshire was all too familiar with. Turning my head, I watched as a lone motorcycle soared down the country road. As it neared, a smile stretched across my lips and I leaned against the side of the car. The motorcycle slowed and pulled over, stopping several yards back from the car. The motorcycle engine cut off and the lanky form lifted from the sporty Harley Davidson. When he went to remove his helmet, I looked up to the sky, as if to be uninterested. "What seems to be the problem, mami?"

His voice was light but velvety and laced with the intoxicating accent growing up in the Hispanic community had given him. Maybe I had romanticized it over the years because he was one of the few men in town who didn’t sound like all they did was chew tobacco and race four-wheelers. I dropped my innocent gaze down to the still smoking car. I guess she just needed a smoke break. Letting her take five before making her get back to work.

Is that so? His voice was a purr then, looming over me. His hands were on the hood, enclosing me in his presence. Mind if I take a look for you?

Finally, I dared a peek up at him, my stomach twisting up in the same shape it always did when Jericho Jimenez came around. In my eyes, he was impossibly handsome—impeccable almond skin that stretched over angular bone structure, perfectly arched thick brows, and mocha eyes that were more complex the longer you studied them. I had spent hours, maybe days, over the years trying to figure them out. I suppose that wouldn’t hurt, I shrugged, slinking under his arm to get out of his way.

Jericho reached in and began inspecting the damage. How have you been, Eve?

Can’t complain.

I haven’t seen you in over a week.

What’s the matter? Miss me?

There was a silence that spoke for him, knowing even though I couldn’t see his face he was smiling. Always. After a couple minutes of tinkering around, he turned to me, Do you still have that box?

What would I do with a box of car junk? I snorted, going around to the trunk and opening it up.

Jericho came around and plucked a piece of hose and a jug of coolant from the box. You’ve been letting your car overheat too much.

How am I supposed to know it’s going to overheat until it does? I questioned, crossing my arms as I followed him back around the car.

Maybe check the coolant level once in a while. I watched as he fixed the problem with nimble fingers and a skillful ease. He closed the hood and turned to me. Should be good as new.

Thank you for your service, I said, grabbing the ends of my flowy skirt and did a little curtsy.

When I moved toward the driver-side door, Jericho’s arm hooked my waist to stop me. Let’s hang out.

"I can’t, I